Perhaps the joke is on me.

Dear Universe,

What is the freakin' deal? I know you've got a thing for weird coincidences, chance similarities and all the other mish-mash that makes you a strange and mysteriously terrifying fruit, but come on.

Two locations, two different parts of town, two days, two condoms.

One found within the pages of a menu in a restaurant (for anonymity's sake let's refer to it as "West Top Luigi's"), and one on the doorknob to my building. One on March 31st, the other on April 2nd. One had it's benefits actually, as it served to get Ms. Elizabeth Buchanan a free birthday meal. The other served to make me ponder what I am currently pondering. Jenny suggests that perhaps it's someone sending me a message, kind of like a fish in a newspaper. What are they trying to say? Maybe it's a thug who knows that threatening children is an effective method of intimidation, but since I don't have kids he's threatening my future offspring. If so, well played you ruffian! If not, then I kind of hope punks stop leaving condoms everywhere I go.

"Hey guys, guess who made the cover of this week's Stupid Coincidence magazine?" (Watch it right until the end.)

Love,
Andrew

p.s. Thanks a lot for reminding me to set my clocks forward... jerk.